


change the fate's design

by I_can_only_imagine



Series: make the clock reverse [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Character Death, Fluff, Gen, Kinda?, Light Angst, Only mentioned though, Time Travel, and Joker, i know this isnt how the all-caste works but roll with it, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_can_only_imagine/pseuds/I_can_only_imagine
Summary: After Jason and the Joker kill each other, Ducra finds Bruce to send him back in time seven years to fix his mistake with Jason's gun in hand.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd (mentioned), Ducra & Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Ducra & Jason Todd (mentioned), Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Jason Todd (mentioned)
Series: make the clock reverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760149
Comments: 15
Kudos: 178





	change the fate's design

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Tangled, Healing Incantation by Mandy Moore.

_ “Sometimes we must betray our beliefs, break our codes, to do what is right,” _ Ducra still whispered in the back of his head.  _ “You will be sent back seven years, but that is all I can give. Fix your mistake, Bruce Wayne. Ensure this future never comes to pass.” _

Bruce stared down at the dun in his hand. It was Jason’s gun. The one he had intended to kill the joker with. Ducra had given it to him when Jason’s body was recovered by the monks of the All-Caste and the warriors of the League of Assassins who had taught him during the years he had been gone.

Joker had killed Jason again, and with his dying breath, Jason had pulled the trigger and taken the Joker down with him.

As he stared at the gun, he knew what he had to do.

The world re-materialized around him, and his body was seven years younger again, clad in his dark pajamas. The only indication he had come from the future was the gun still resting in his hands.

He knew what he had to do. He knew what Ducra was asking of him, and he had to do it. For all of their futures.

He was in the living room, he recognized, the fire in the fireplace reduced to nothing but smoldering coals that lit up from time to time with red hot embers.

Bruce remembered this evening like the back of his hand. Nothing especially remarkable had happened that day. Dick hadn’t come home in a year, it wasn’t anyone’s birthday or the anniversary of anything important. Hell, he hadn’t even had a case to work on that night. There was only one thing that had set that day apart from any other.

Jason had called the manor home for the first time. Not only that, he had told Bruce he loved him.

_ “He’s too trusting,” _ Talia told him, sometime in the seven year future right after he found out what she had done.  _ “Even after being turned in by his mother and killed in cold blood, he’s still too trusting. He accidentally called me mother one day after training. Would you believe me if I told you I cried?” _

He would believe her, because he had done the exact same.

Jason had looked up at him this very day, and Bruce's heart had ceased beating due to the overwhelming flow of love for his new son. Jason was so small, standing a full foot and a half smaller than Bruce at eleven years old. He had to look directly up to meet Bruce’s eyes, his deep blue gaze unusually soft and wondrous. He looked away and hugged Bruce for the first time, and said those words that Bruce’s heart would never forget the weight of.

_ “I love you,” _ the boy had mumbled into his hip.

_ “I love you too Jay,” _ the words still weighed in his mouth, even though they had been said two hours before when he put Jason to bed. They would be the words he said when he did what Ducra sent him back to do.

His legs were like lead as he walked through the manor, up the stairs and down the hall. He stopped in front of the room right beside his own,in front of the door that he had left cracked at Jason’s request.

He could hear Jason’s soft breaths of sleep and it put him at ease and on edge at the same time. He realized there was yet another first that night. The first time Jason’s sleep was peaceful and without fuss.

With a spike of horror, it occurred to him that he would have to live with this. He would have to live those years where Jason was there without him in this timeline. He had to do it, for the sake of everyone in the future, but it was just sinking in how he was going to have to live with it forever.

How would he explain this to Alfred? To Dick and Barbara?

Dick and Babs had only met Jason once, Babs being indifferent and Dick hating him. But how would they react, how could he explain this to them without them resenting him even more?

He shook away those thoughts. He would deal with all of that when it happened. HE needed to focus right now. Forget all of his emotions and just do it.

He gently pushed the door open and stepped into the dark room. The gun was held bruisingly tight in his right hand as he crept through the perfectly clean bedroom to the bed, the outline of the room memorized like any other blueprint for a mission.

He reached the bed and took a deep, steadying breath. This was it. This was what he had to do.

_ “No matter how many times you betray him, stab him in the back,  _ hurt _ him, he will always love you,” _ Talia said in the back of his head unhelpfully. He tried to ignore her. She was right, of course, but he had to do this. He had to.

With his right hand he cocked the gun, with his left he reached out for the form in the bed. He froze halfway between both actions though, as the click of the gun had caused the form to stir.

The boy turned under the covers for a moment before a small hand peaked out to pull them down. There was just enough movement and sound that Bruce knew the covers were at least under the boy’s chin and he groaned awake.

“Dad?” the boy asked, his voice almost a whimper from being woken. Such heavy guilt and love surged through Bruce that his knees and hands began to shake.

What was he doing?

Jason couldn’t see him. There was no way he could, just like Bruce couldn’t see him. The room was pitch black, impossibly darkened from black out curtains and a sleeping manor.

“B, is that you?” the boy asked, his voice a little more clear and awake, his mind more aware based on the name he addressed Bruce by.

“Sorry,” Bruce managed to whisper, his mind replaying  _ ‘Dad’ _ on repeat. “Sorry Jaylad, did I wake you?”

Jason just hummed in response, starting to sit up before Bruce reached out and gently pushed him back now.

“Go back to sleep Chum,” he said, tucking the blanket around him one handed.

“Why were you in my room?” Jason asked groggily. He wasn’t upset, just curious.

“I was just checking on you. Wanted to make sure you fell asleep alright,” Bruce lied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Had a nightmare,” Jason mumbled, curling in towards Bruce.

“Your mom?” Bruce asked, receiving a small nod he could feel against the bed in reply.

Silence fell over the dark room, and Bruce was almost certain Jason had fallen asleep until he broke the silence.

“I never told no one that before,” Jason whispered like he was afraid his voice would shatter the moment. Bruce felt himself soften and melt at the sound of his heavy accent that he had kicked before becoming Robin so they wouldn’t have to worry about someone recognizing his voice. He had never known back then how much he would mix that lower Gotham, Narrows accent.

“That you have nightmares?” Bruce asked to clarify.

Jason shook his head, “That I love ‘em. No one but my mom.”

Bruce almost broke down right then.

Jason had always had this strong effect on him that made his emotions amplified to their max. Dick often called him ‘emotionally constipated’ but around Jason it was hard to be. The boy was just so trusting and kind, while not being naive, and it brought out something in Bruce that no one else could.

“I meant it though,” Jason pulled him from his thoughts with another whisper.

“And I meant it too,” Bruce promised.

“Can you stay?” Jason asked, sitting up again. Bruce still couldn’t see him, but he had a feeling he knew what his expression looked like. “Just for tonight, I mean.”

“Of course Jay,” Bruce whispered. Gently he set the gun on the ground by the foot on the bed and fully climbed in. He crawled underneath the covers with Jason and pulled him back down and into his chest. He used his back as a shield against whatever might try to come through the open bedroom door and wrapped himself around his son.

He knew what he had to do. But killing Jason wasn’t it.

“Jason,” he whispered against the top of his head, running a hand through the curly black locks. Jason hummed to let him know he was listening and he continued, “I want you to stop training.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked, voice a little louder and filled with shock. He tried to pull back up Bruce held him in place.

“I don’t want you to become Robin,” Bruce said firmly. “I want you to stay home when I go out at night, safe with Alfred. I want you to go to school like you want to, and to join the drama club and Gotham Youth Symphony like you talked about, and I want you to make normal friends.”

“What made you change your mind?” he asked. He didn’t sound hurt at all by this new development. If Bruce was right, he actually sounded almost relieved.

“I realized that I can’t lose you,” Bruce said simply.

Jason accepted that answer and cuddled in closer, his hands gripping tightly onto Bruce’s sleep shirt.

As Jason’s breathing evened out into a steady rhythm and his hands fell to the bed completely relaxed, Bruce realized what Ducra had really meant.

She hadn’t sent him back for Jason. She had sent him back for the Joker.

When he was sure Jason was fully asleep and would not be waking up until morning he untangled himself from the boy and his bed sheets. He took the gun and went down to the Batcave.

It was shockingly easy to find a red hood and suit to wear before striking out into the night.

He went down the memorized path to Arkham Asylum, being careful to never show his face even with the hood and domino mask protecting his identity.

In Arkham Asylum, before the clown could even laugh, a gun shot rang out in the night.

Knowing there were no fingerprints left on the gun, he left it at the scene of the crime and went back home, already halfway there by the time the police got to the Asylum cell.

In the Batcave he quickly changed back into his pajamas and burned the outfit he had worn. He was halfway up the stairs when he almost ran into Alfred.

He looked up at the British man he had long since accepted as his father, standing still as a statue staring down at him, and knew he knew. Something in Alfred’s eyes carried just as much relief as he had heard in Jason’s voice before he fell asleep.

“The only one,” Alfred stated instead of asking.

“The only one,” Bruce affirmed. As he stared up, he realized that Alfred might know about more than just the Joker.

“Master Jason is still asleep,” Alfred said and turned to walk back up the stairs. ”You had best return to him before he wakes.”

“Right,” Bruce followed. Before the butler could return to his room, Bruce stopped him.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Of course not,” Alfred half turned to look back at him. “With what that man does to our boy, I was tempted to do it myself. You just happened to get to him first.”

Bruce froze from the shock, blinking a few times. Alfred didn’t give room for recovery though, as he smiled and started to walk away again.

“Master Richard was on his way down from Bulhaven and Miss al Ghul from Arabia to do the deed when the news broke. I’m sure all of us will rest well tonight knowing it is done.”

“How many of us did Ducra send back,” Bruce stopped him again when he regained his wits.

“Just us four,” Alfred assured him. “She wanted to make sure at least one of us got it right.”

“I almost got it wrong,” Bruce said. “If Jason had woken up-”

“I was never going to let you,” Alfred stopped him calmly. “I was in the corner of his room when you entered it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce croaked. In the blink of an eye, Alfred’s arms were around him, and he felt like a child all over again.

“We all make mistakes, Master Bruce,” Alfred reassured him. “Now go back upstairs to your son.”

“What about Tim?” Bruce realized.

“We will figure those details out in the years to come, when Master Timothy comes to find us,” Alfred said.

With that, the men parted ways.

Bruce carefully repositioned himself in Jason’s bed to make it seem as though he had never left, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

Alfred was right, and Bruce prayed all of Gotham would rest easier tonight, knowing they were that much more safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @what-if-i-imagine. Comments are always appreciated and are better to revive than kudos.


End file.
